


Soldier's Orders

by cadel_solo



Series: Powerless trilogy [2]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Bullying, Ordinary Life, Sexual Abuse, Violence, but also terrible, its gonna be fun, new characters are introduced, old characters are reintroduced, powerless sequel, things are chill for a while, wirt has friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadel_solo/pseuds/cadel_solo
Summary: Sequel to Powerless. Things are okay now. Current friendships are at their most pleasant (for the most part), new friendships are made, and things are at their overall most harmonious. But no good deed goes unpunished.





	Soldier's Orders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: EXTREME sexual abuse trigger warning, this chapter lacks... subtlety. But I'll put three zeroes (000) before and after the graphic abuse bit. But keep in mind there are other graphic things after that point. So heed caution.

The Grady Motel had been founded seventeen years before families in need were first housed there, and twenty-six years before Clarisse and her father had been found home in room A14.

Their room was on the bottom floor, and very close to the handicapped parking spots, an accommodation made exclusively for Clarisse's father. He depended on two prosthetic legs and a walking stick. Clarisse promised him that when she got older, she'd be strong enough to lift him into his motorized wheelchair, and he wouldn't have to push himself so much to walk. But for now, she was only seven, and unable to lift him. He reassured her she needn't worry about it - he liked walking. It made him feel capable. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world but he enjoyed feeling mobile on his own.

There was a very "underground" sort of community within the motel, engaged in only by those who lived there. The founder, Bob Grady, was a generous man, but he had a very high ego. He wanted his establishment to appear as high-class as a motel could be, and he was afraid that having the homeless living amongst it would taint the motel's "glorious" image. So with a heavy heart, the economically-challenged patrons tried to blend in with those who stayed overnight in the midst of road trips and during vacations. The camaraderie was ever-so-subtle, and Clarisse never understood why their generosity was done with such a shameful hush-hush. Her father had gone as far as to teach her routes to neighbors' rooms to ask for things like a cup of milk or an egg or two, routes that would prevent the non-homeless from catching wind of it.

The shame she learned to feel deep down because of their domestic predicament left her feeling lonely. She adored her father and their neighbors, but there was a small twinge of sad bitterness inside of her. She didn't have any true friends her age. Children at school often disregarded her, whispering to each other about the little smelly, dirty, homeless girl in their class. Teachers grew weary of her constant demand for attention and her attempts at being a likable class clown. She received only dismissive hums and doors in her face. The children living in the motels weren't allowed to play outside, a rule established to keep guests unaware of the homeless community.

One summer afternoon, with tears in her eyes at the remembrance that a boy in her class was currently having a birthday party, one to which she'd not been invited, she decided to break the rules.

She waited until after dinner, when her father went to bed at exactly eight o' clock, and snuck outside, holding the room key. As she crept out of the door, she began to devise a plan to get all the other children outside to play.

That is, until she found a girl sitting at the top of the steps outside.

She was sitting just a few feet away from room 52B. Nobody lived there, but the girl didn't look like a tourist. Her black hair looked un-brushed, and she was wearing a stained dress that appeared a tad too small for her.

Clarisse ascended the steps and sat next to her, and the girl looked at her with something that resembled fear.

"Did you just move here?" Clarisse asked. The girl began to open her mouth as if to respond, but she closed it and looked ahead, away from Clarisse.

Clarisse looked ahead too, a little caught-off guard by the way the girl had responded. Maybe she was ashamed too. With understanding, Clarisse decided to brush it off; her dad always told her that patience was a virtue. She didn't know what the word "virtue" meant but she assumed it means that it's a good thing to have.

"What's your name?" Clarisse asked, trying again in her attempt to break the ice. But again, the girl didn't answer; in fact, she didn't even try this time.

Clarisse was beginning to feel a little hopeless and annoyed in her failed attempts to become acquainted with this new girl. "My name's Clarisse, I live in A14 with my daddy."

Suddenly, the girl turned away from her and peeked around the corner, toward the parking lot. She glanced, and then turned back, still not speaking.

Clarisse was close to giving up now. Maybe the girl was just a tourist, and maybe she was disgusted with her. But she still wondered why she looked the way she did.

"What are you doing here?" Clarisse asked. She decided that if the girl didn't answer, she'd get up and leave.

But for once, the girl did respond. She gave a harsh whisper, "Watching."

Clarisse raised her eyebrows in awe and curiousity. "Watching for what?"

Unfortunately, the girl didn't answer that time, and Clarisse sighed, fearing they were back at square one.

Clarisse decided now wasn't the time. Maybe the girl would be there tomorrow, and maybe then she'd speak to her.

"I'm going in now," Clarisse told her. She walked down the steps and called over her shoulder, "Good bye!"

The girl didn't say it back. She only turned and looked at the parking lot again.

Clarisse frowned and made her way back to room A14. She stuck the key into the slot, waiting for the small light to flash green, and slowly opened the door.

Her father was still sleep.

Clarisse decided to keep watching the girl from the window.

For a few minutes, the girl continued to sit there, constantly glancing around the corner toward the parking lot. Then, there came the sound of a car door shutting. The girl looked again, with a sense of urgency this time, and then frantically stood up and entered room 52B.

Clarisse kept watching, waiting to see who it was that caused the girl to react this way, but from behind Clarisse was the sound of her father shifting in bed and coughing.

"What are you doing, Rissy?" her dad asked

She stepped away from the window. "Nothing."

He yawned and cleared his throat. "Don't be staring out the window, you know how Bob feels about that."

Clarisse sighed and paid the outside one last glance for the night, but from where she was standing, she couldn't see who'd shut the car door and caused the girl to enter the motel room.

Over the next three days, around the same time, the girl sat at that spot at the top of the stairs, repeatedly glancing over her shoulder at the parking lot. On two of those three days, Clarisse went to visit her again and try to befriend her. But both times were in vain, ending with the girl running into her room at the sound of the car door shutting.

On the third day, Clarisse decided to fess up to her father.

But she knew she had to do so in such a way that her father wouldn't get her in trouble. She didn't want to be grounded from the TV again. He'd once grounded her from it for an entire week, and it had been torture. She'd already read all the books in her suitcase at least _twice_ and filled up all her coloring books. There was positively nothing to do here.

"Daddy?" she said to him an hour before dinner.

"Yes?" he said, propped up against the pillows on his bed and flipping through a magazine.

"Um..." She glanced at the window, not knowing how to tell him without raising suspicion upon herself.

She looked down and fumbled with the drawstring on her shorts, and her dad looked up at her from the magazine. "What's up, Rissy?"

She looked back at the window, and then at him. "There's a girl who sits outside a lot."

"Is there?" he said, looking back down at the magazine.

"Uh-huh. And, um... she..."

Again, her father looked up at her, and that's when she realized there was no way for her to tell him without outright admitting she'd gone outside without his permission. So she just spilled the beans. "I keep trying to talk to her and be friends with her but she won't talk back to me."

Her dad set down the magazine, and she braced herself for a talking-to and for her punishment.

"Rissy, I don't appreciate you going outside without asking me first."

"I know..." she murmured.

He paused, and then brushed a hand through her hair. "But I get it. It's boring here and there's nobody to talk to, right?"

Clarisse nodded, feeling a little better.

"Bob is a little full of himself and doesn't let any of us have fun. And it _sucks."_

Clarisse couldn't help but smile a tiny bit and look up at him.

"How about this... if she wants, you can invite her over for dinner tonight. Maybe if she got to know you a little better and we made her feel at home, maybe she'll feel a little more comfortable."

Clarisse sat up with joy at her eyes. " _Really?"_

"Yes, really. That sound good?"

Clarisse nodded and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you thank you thank you _thank you!"_

He laughed softly and hugged her back. "Why don't you go see if she's out there now? I'll order pizza."

"Okay!" Clarisse stood up and jumped off the bed. She took the key from the TV stand and raced outside. Sure enough, the girl was sitting at the top of the steps, but this time she was humming to herself and staring contently up at birds in a tree.

Clarisse had never heard the girl's real voice before, nor had she seen her look... not serious.

"Hey!" Clarisse called up to her, and the girl looked down at her. Suddenly she looked serious again.

Clarisse walked up the steps and stood in front of her. "Do you want to come have pizza with us?"

The girl seemed a little off-put by the question, and she turned and looked the parking lot again. This time, she spoke. "Why?"

"Because it'll be fun!" Clarisse sat down. " _Please?"_

The girl turned and looked at the parking lot again, and then back to Clarisse. "Will it take long?"

"Um..." Clarisse felt a small bit of disappointment. Why didn't the girl want to stay long? Why didn't she like her? "Not too long, if you don't want to."

The girl thought for a moment, looked over at the parking lot once more, looked up at the sky, and then nodded. "...okay."

Clarisse stood up. "Let's go."

Her excitement had since started to deteriorate. How could she have much fun having the girl over, knowing that she wanted to leave as quickly as possible?

Why did she have to leave so soon anyway?

It took a half hour for the pizza to arrive. In the meantime, while Clarisse's father sat in their little kitchenette and focused on his laptop, the two girls sat side by side on her bed and tried to watch the television. The girl appeared confused and a little timid. Whenever Clarisse laughed at the cartoon, the girl tried to share her joy, but it was clear that she didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor. So Clarisse shut it off and looked for something else to entertain them. She reached under her bed and opened up her suitcase, revealing all of her coloring books and worn chapter books. She pulled out the stack of coloring books, zipped up her suitcase, and dropped it to the side of her bed for later.

Clarisse picked one up and opened it to the first page. "This coloring book I got from my aunt for my birthday. It's full of horses and ponies and stuff." She flipped through and told the girl all their names. "I colored them pink mostly because it used to be my favorite color- not anymore though. It's only my third favorite color, and purple is my second favorite color, and blue is my first favorite color now."

The girl seemed confused, but she listened and gave Clarisse her full attention.

Clarisse shut the coloring book and pulled out another one. "I got this one from the food share at the church. See- I like this one because I used a lot of blue. I used a lot on this page and this page..." She flipped through each page. "There's Jesus and the angels, and I used blue to color in their halos and stuff."

When Clarisse looked up, the girl had turned to look out the window. She seemed fixated on something, shifting side by side as if trying to get a better view.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Clarisse asked her.

The girl turned back around. "Doing what?"

"You keep looking at something."

The girl shrunk down a little. "I'm just watching."

"Watching for what?"

"Nothing," she responded adamantly.

Clarisse started to get the hunch that the girl was hiding something, something _bad_.

"Is it somebody from school?" Clarisse asked.

"What?" The girl looked up, appearing confused.

"Is somebody from school being mean to you?"

The girl just stared at her for a few moments, then admitted, "I don't go to school."

This made Clarisse even more confused, and she began to feel really, truly uneasy. What was up with this girl? Why didn't she talk much? Why did she spend so much time outside? And _what was she constantly watching for?_

Outside, a car door shut, and the girl appeared wide-eyed and rigid. She began to get up from the bed, until Clarisse's father spoke up. "That might be the pizza guy."

With a grunt, he stood up with his cane and hobbled on over to the front door. Sure enough, a young-looking guy in a red polo, khakis, and a black cap with their restaurant logo on it, handed Clarisse's father their pizza box and accepted his cash.

Clarisse's father shut the door and set the pizza down onto the small countertop. "Let me serve these up real quick..." He pulled out a few paper plates. While he was divvying up the slices, Clarisse was watching the girl, who was standing up and staring at Clarisse's father and at the door with terror.

He turned to Clarisse. " _Big slice of cheese for Rissy, and_..." After he handed her the plate, he turned and picked up another. He looked over at the girl. "Would you like some too?"

The girl just stared at him unresponsively, and Clarisse noted the way her hands were shaking, just ever so slightly, as if she was freezing.

"Here." He set a slice onto the plate, shut the pizza box, and set her plate on top of it. "If you want it, it's right here, okay?"

The girl, semi-jaw-slacked, nodded and turned back to Clarisse.

Clarisse looked at her dad, wondering if he had caught wind of how weird the girl was, and he looked at her the same way. _See?_

"So what's your name?" Clarisse's dad asked her, in as gentle of a tone as he could.

The girl looked at him, and then at Clarisse. When she realized that they were both staring at her, she began to appear panicked. "Um..."

"Have you been living here for a while?"

She looked over at the window with an intensity that didn't belong on the face of a presumed seven-year-old.

"Hey, is something the matter?" He asked her. He was looking at her in a certain way, and Clarisse recognized it as the way he'd looked at her when she'd first told him about the kids at school who were treating her horribly.

The girl looked back at Clarisse's father. "I-I..."

Suddenly, there came the sound of a car door shutting from outside, and she stopped shaking and stood up straight, looking like a deer in the headlights. She turned and began running her fingers over the covers on Clarisse's bed until she found something. Her room key.

Without a word, she fled out of the door. Clarisse chased after her, despite her father's shouts at her not to.

Clarisse stopped right outside, and saw the girl just about to open her motel room door.

This is, until a man turned the corner. The girl looked at him, and stepped back. Clarisse watched as the man gripped her arm and hissed something at her. In response, the girl dropped her head. It was as if the panic inside her had just shut off like a switch. In fact, it was as if _everything_ in her had just shut off like a switch.

The man snatched the key from her, opened the door, and quite literally shoved her in. He looked more angry than Clarisse had ever seen somebody look in her entire life.

Then he turned his head and looked right at her. And just like the panic inside the girl, the man's anger just sort of shut off. He stared at her, and Clarisse stared right back. She wondered who the man was. Was it the girl's dad? An uncle? A brother?

"Clarisse _, get in here right now_ ," her father demanded. Clarisse watched the man as she entered her room, and he did exactly the same.

After Clarisse shut the door, she looked at her dad. "There was a man," she told him.

"Was it her dad?" He asked, and Clarisse shrugged.

"Maybe."

Her father sighed. "Okay. Did you see what room they're in?"

"Room 52B."

He nodded. "Alright, I'll call Bob later."

"Why, what's wrong?" Clarisse asked.

"Don't worry about it, Rissy. Look," he waved her over and looked her directly in the eyes, "I do not want you going back outside alone, okay?" Just as Clarisse was about to protest, he added, " _I mean it_."

Clarisse gave up and nodded with a frown. "Okay."

"Clarisse, I'm serious. I don't want you trying to talk to her again."

"But dad-"

"But nothing. Until things are cleared up, I don't want you going back outside without me, and I don't want you trying to talk to that girl again. Got it?"

Clarisse just dropped her eyes from her dad.

"Clarisse, you will not-"

" _I've got it!"_ She snapped at him.

Her father just shook his head with a sigh. "No more TV for tonight."

Clarisse groaned and lie down on her bed. She turned her back to him.

She wanted so desperately to know what was wrong. She refused to give up until the girl told her. She had to find out. She _had to_ know.

The following evening, after dinner, Clarisse's father hid the room key and told her she was to go to sleep at the same time he did. The day had gone by okay, he hadn't mentioned what had happened the day before. Clarisse had even been planning to go back outside after her father fell asleep, just like before. But her father had outsmarted her. For the most part.

With the lights off, Clarisse lie down and shut her eyes. Before long, she began snoring softly. Not even five minutes later, her father began to snore as well. Only difference was, his snores were real.

Clarisse turned silently and looked at him. There. Now she could go out.

She slid out of bed as softly as possible, making as much noise as a tiny mouse as she crept toward the door.

She opened it softly and slowly, and slipped out. She didn't shut it all the way, because she didn't have the key. But she figured it was safe, that her father wouldn't wake up and notice the open door.

As Clarisse walked outside, she figured the girl would already be inside by now. In such a case, she might have to resort to spying on them through the window.

But to her surprise, the girl was outside still. She was staring downward and sitting on her hands.

Clarisse ascended the steps toward her. "Hey," she whispered.

But the girl didn't look at her.

"What's going on?" Clarisse asked.

The girl, as expected, didn't say anything. But this time, it shook fear into Clarisse.

From behind the door, she could hear a man's voice say, " _See_ , I told you."

Then, in the most haunting whisper, the girl looked up at her and said, _"Go home_."

Before Clarisse could ask what she meant, the door to 52B opened, and the man from yesterday smiled at her. "What are you doing out so late?" He asked her.

Her voice got caught in her throat. He was smiling at her, smiling at her in the friendly way their neighbors smiled her, but it didn't feel like he was so friendly.

"Are you locked out?" He asked her, and she shook her head. "Do you need to borrow a phone or something?"

Suddenly, another voice from inside mumbled something, but Clarisse couldn't hear what it was.

000

Before she knew what was going on, the man had snatched her up and was bringing her into their room. She tried to thrash out at him and holler, but he held his hand over her mouth and handed her to another man.

The man holding her now pushed her down onto the only bed in the room and held her there by her arms. She tried kicking him, but he was on her. She trembled violently while squirming under him. "Stop it," he told her. But she didn't stop it. She was scared, and she wanted to go home. She felt sick and out of place, like whatever was happening wasn't even real.

She couldn't see much of her surroundings with the man on top of her, but she could see a _third_ man standing next to the door. His back was to them, and he stared out the peephole with his hands over his ears.

She couldn't see where the girl was, or where the first man was. But she could hear him. "This one good?"

The man above her let go of her arms and turned to the first man. "Yeah, awesome, she kind of reminds me of Aly."

Who was Aly? She wondered. And why was the man taking off his clothes?

She began to cry, and everything felt like a terrible blur. With her clothes off he began hurting her, doing something that hurt more anything else she'd ever felt. It lasted for a long time, and she wanted it to stop. She hoped her father would wake up, and find the door open, and come up to room 52B, and take her away from the disgusting thing that was happening to her.

After a while, it was over. The man stopped, and for a few minutes, he just lie above her, breathing hard. " _Fuck_ ," he muttered.

"Do you need me to get the bathroom ready?" The first man said, and the man on Clarisse nodded.

"Go ahead."

He got off of her, and she was ready to leap up and run, but he wrapped his fingers around her neck and held her there. _"Don't move a damn muscle_."

She didn't, only because she was scared he'd start hurting her again.

He began putting his clothes back on, and she looked up to see the first man taking a pile of towels, sheets, and a big plastic thing into the bathroom.

000

The man who'd hurt her went into the bathroom as well, and Clarisse looked at the man next to the door.

"I want to go home," she whispered at him.

He turned and looked at her, and she noticed how red his eyes were. "I know," he whispered back to her.

" _Please_ let me go home," she begged quietly. He just looked away from her helplessly and went back to staring outside.

The first man picked her up from the bed and brough her into the bathroom. On the floor, they'd made a set up. There were two towels on top of the plastic sheet, and the plastic sheet was on top of two dark bed sheets.

Clarisse could see the girl standing inside the bathtub, weeping and covering her face.

The man lie Clarisse down on the set up, and she wondered with dread if he was going to do it to her too, as she still hadn't been allowed to put her clothes back on.

But he left the room, and Clarisse looked up at the girl.

"I'm sorry," the girl cried to her. "I'm sorry."

Clarisse wondered if the girl had ever been hurt too, the way she'd just been.

The man who'd hurt Clarisse came in, and suddenly the girl began screaming at him. She kept screaming and crying the words "stop" and "no," and it took Clarisse a moment to realize that he was holding a knife.

He knelt above her, and Clarisse screamed and begged too, holding her hands up in an attempt to fend him off. But he just pushed her hands away, and he brought the knife down.

Following an intense slashing pain in her throat, Clarisse couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't even make a sound. She could just... feel and hear. She could feel something warm on her neck, and she knew it was blood. She could hear the girl crying loudly.

Clarisse didn't want to die, not here, not like this, not _now._

But after a few more seconds of listening to the girl's terrorized wailing and of seeing the man standing above her, her ears rang loudly, her vision blurred...

and that was it.

Her body was wrapped up, all burrowed in towels and plastic and sheets.

The girl sat in the empty tub, crying and rocking back and forth with her face in her knees.

She looked up with horror when somebody entered the bathroom.

The man with red eyes knelt down next to the tub. "Come on," he said to her softly. "We've gotta go."

She exhaled shakily and looked down. Numbly, she stood up and raised her arms to him. He lifted her up and carried her down to the car, where Clarisse's body had already been stuffed into the trunk.

Soon, everybody piled into the car. It was dark and quiet out. The car was turned on, and the radio was the only noise in the world as they pulled out the Grady Motel.

The police were notified of Clarisse's disappearance early the next morning. But by then, it was far too late.


End file.
